Embarrassment of riches, pt. 1

originally posted by SteveTimko:

He's outside of Grass Valley and he's doing things with uncommon grapes, like rkatsiteli, gamay and some Cal Davis hybrids. They're not native yeasts.

Seems to be liked more by me and say Tom Hill than your average Disorderly:

Tom's comment about the Alice Feiring crowd liking the wines turned out to be wrong.

I also wrote about this winery on the Wine Therapy board.

Aha! Thanks for the info, Steve. I have a soft spot for Grass Valley, as that's where one of my childhood friends moved to during my teenage years. Sorry that I didn't respond to your original mention of them back in the Therapy days, but better late than never, no?

Mark Lipton
 
originally posted by SteveTimko:
GamaySteve:

I kind of liked the gamay. A bit sweet and fruit forward. It's from grapes he planted himself. If you look in the thread here you can see some pictures I took of his vineyard.
He had problems with the 2005 vintage, so he kept it and blended it with the gamay from the 2006 vintage. It's probably more like Beaujolais Village than Cru Beaujolais.

I got an email from Rob Chrisman, saying he'd gotten his plant material from King Estate, so it is, perhaps, truly Gamay. Because I understand first hand what kind of commitment (bordering on lunacy) is called for to plant Gamay in California, I'm shocked to find out someone else may have done so.
Where is Wine Therapy when we really need it?
 
originally posted by Jeff Connell:
We're here for you Steve. Talk to us about the lunacy of planting Gamay.

Well, here's one way to look at it: I;'ve cornered the market for Gamay in California.
Here's another way to look at it: What market?
My nervous system, my hard-wiring tells me the pleasure I experience from the smell and taste of a well made Gamay is completely irresistible. My observation of my fellow humans suggests that they'd just as soon pass on even tasting a Gamay. They want something SERIOUS. Or, if they taste it, they are often likely to say, to themselves, and/or to no one in particular: "mmm, that's pretty light..." and dump it out, and go for something darker, something maybe a little...browner.
My Gamay-producing peers, in the US, and there aren't many, seem to make the stuff mostly as an after-thought, at least judging from the ones I've tasted. Mostly the wines have seemed unfocussed, maybe overcropped (?). One, from what may be pretty nice fruit, is rendered harmless by elevage in new(ish) small oak barrels. Where's the joy? Where's the pulse-quickening, make-the-hair-on-the-back-of-my-neck-stand-up thrilling fruit and nerve? It's enough to drive a man to drink...
 
originally posted by Sharon Bowman:
originally posted by Marc D:
Ca de Noci question
What foods do you think it would shine with?

I would have to say saffron gnocchetti with crab and sea urchin.
The cafe was out of gnocchi and urchin, so we made due with Moules Frites with the Notte di Luna. The mussels were steamed in Prosecco, and the broth was finished with a little cream and fresh herbs.

The wine was fascinating. First whiff very Moscato like aromas of pear and flowers. Then it changed, leaning towards a Jura white (or Lopez de Heredia rose?) with slightly oxidized flavors of caramel, nuts and orange rind. Quite dry and pleasingly bitter in the mouth, but it lingered on and on and was delightful with the mussels. Nice wine!
 
originally posted by SteveTimko:
originally posted by VLM:
originally posted by SteveTimko:
Tom's comment about the Alice Feiring crowd liking the wines turned out to be wrong.

Who the fuck is the Alice Feiring crowd?

That would be you, dude.

Not bloody fucking likely.

I think you owe both Alice and I an apology.

I love sulphur. It heightens the buzz.
 
originally posted by Sharon Bowman:
originally posted by Marc D:
Ca de Noci question
What foods do you think it would shine with?

I would have to say saffron gnocchetti with crab and sea urchin.

How many guesses do I get as to where you had this and with whom?

You're so predictable.
 
originally posted by Steve Edmunds:
originally posted by Jeff Connell:
We're here for you Steve. Talk to us about the lunacy of planting Gamay.
Well, here's one way to look at it: I;'ve cornered the market for Gamay in California.
Here's another way to look at it: What market?
My nervous system, my hard-wiring tells me the pleasure I experience from the smell and taste of a well made Gamay is completely irresistible. My observation of my fellow humans suggests that they'd just as soon pass on even tasting a Gamay. They want something SERIOUS. Or, if they taste it, they are often likely to say, to themselves, and/or to no one in particular: "mmm, that's pretty light..." and dump it out, and go for something darker, something maybe a little...browner.
My Gamay-producing peers, in the US, and there aren't many, seem to make the stuff mostly as an after-thought, at least judging from the ones I've tasted. Mostly the wines have seemed unfocussed, maybe overcropped (?). One, from what may be pretty nice fruit, is rendered harmless by elevage in new(ish) small oak barrels. Where's the joy? Where's the pulse-quickening, make-the-hair-on-the-back-of-my-neck-stand-up thrilling fruit and nerve? It's enough to drive a man to drink...
In Ontario, there are actually a fair number of Gamay producers. At the same time the true Gamay-lover is not so rare neither. But it seems never the twain shall meet. (Hopefully not never.) Last night I had a Gamay from one of our local producers from the genuinely fabulous 2007 vintage. The wine was big and rich, and while lacking essential minerals, the fruit might have had good flavour, if not for the harm-rendering elevage in new(ish) small oak barrels. Alas, another spoiled Gamay. There are a small number of local Gamays which I drink and enjoy, but not one that I would recommend to you.

So, doesn't the lunacy reside with them, not with us?
 
originally posted by Jeff Connell:
originally posted by Steve Edmunds:
originally posted by Jeff Connell:
We're here for you Steve. Talk to us about the lunacy of planting Gamay.
Well, here's one way to look at it: I;'ve cornered the market for Gamay in California.
Here's another way to look at it: What market?
My nervous system, my hard-wiring tells me the pleasure I experience from the smell and taste of a well made Gamay is completely irresistible. My observation of my fellow humans suggests that they'd just as soon pass on even tasting a Gamay. They want something SERIOUS. Or, if they taste it, they are often likely to say, to themselves, and/or to no one in particular: "mmm, that's pretty light..." and dump it out, and go for something darker, something maybe a little...browner.
My Gamay-producing peers, in the US, and there aren't many, seem to make the stuff mostly as an after-thought, at least judging from the ones I've tasted. Mostly the wines have seemed unfocussed, maybe overcropped (?). One, from what may be pretty nice fruit, is rendered harmless by elevage in new(ish) small oak barrels. Where's the joy? Where's the pulse-quickening, make-the-hair-on-the-back-of-my-neck-stand-up thrilling fruit and nerve? It's enough to drive a man to drink...
In Ontario, there are actually a fair number of Gamay producers. At the same time the true Gamay-lover is not so rare neither. But it seems never the twain shall meet. (Hopefully not never.) Last night I had a Gamay from one of our local producers from the genuinely fabulous 2007 vintage. The wine was big and rich, and while lacking essential minerals, the fruit might have had good flavour, if not for the harm-rendering elevage in new(ish) small oak barrels. Alas, another spoiled Gamay. There are a small number of local Gamays which I drink and enjoy, but not one that I would recommend to you.

So, doesn't the lunacy reside with them, not with us?
What-did you plant Gamay, too?
 
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